


Melodic Satelite

by Tsukareta



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (?), F/M, Heartache, Mercy Killing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Spoilers (?), Reminiscing, Smoking, Some spoilers for SDR2/The End of Kibougamine Gakuen, Spoilers for Chapter 1 & 5, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukareta/pseuds/Tsukareta
Summary: Warning: Contains Canonical Character Death- If you have not gotten past Chapters 1 & 5, I suggest you finish the game first. Also contains spoilers for SDR2/Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High SchoolA small collection of small stories/snippets that I've decided to do for this pairing.





	Melodic Satelite

**Author's Note:**

> Snippet(s) of Momomatsu (is that the right name for it?)
> 
> I wanted to do one that's happy, where they're both together but then I decided to do one where Momota reminisces in the his encounters with Akamtsu thus leading to her death? However, it didn't really end up like that, sorry but please go read it if you'd like.
> 
> As well as:  
>  \- One where Akamatsu doesn't care about Momota's illness and stays with him.  
>  \- One where Akamatsu's mask crumbles and she can't take it anymore after finding out Momota had cheated on her.
> 
> I don't know if I want to go forth with that idea(s), however, anyone is welcome to post anything in the comments, I only have it on moderation so I can see it quicker because my preferences (settings) are broken and I don't get emails or anything on comments.
> 
> Table of Contents:  
>  ✘ Crescent Halves  
>  ✘ TBA/TBD  
>  ✘ TBA/TBD  
>  ✘ TBA/TBD
> 
> Chapter 1: Momota Reminiscing in the great times they had together, thus leading to her death in the killing game as well as recollecting his thoughts on other things. (Let's just say Momota survived the killing game- getting away with his murder) 
> 
> Chapter 2: TBA/TBD 
> 
> Chapter 3: TBA/TBD 
> 
> Chapter 4: TBA/TBD

The astronaut gazed up at the stars, exhaling smoke from his lungs that danced through the twilight sky and then fading away into nothingness.

The cigarette had almost burned out at this point, leaving charred, black nicotine with orange embers that crumbled off the rolled stick before Momota's feet, mingling with the specks of dust and debris that surrounded him on the steep hill that had unsteady, un-level, unstable ground- every now and then it would rumble under his feet but not collapse.

And every time it did he felt like the descendants of hell were calling for him,  _for him to join them._

They would jeer at him from the gaping maws of death, its jaws just inches away from his dry throat where bile clogged in his windpipe followed by bubbling vomit and nausea. He felt like puking his guts out, retching out anything that remained within him, to spill his guts before his very eyes and watch them leak into the forbidden ground, to be stained with his unholiness.

He killed them all...his friends...his classmates,  _his peers._ Just to win the killing game that he never dreamed of achieving with the mastermind being assassinated. It had only given him little comfort when Shirogane's face had crumpled along with her body under the boulder, her face had crumbled when she was thrown in with the others which pleased him greatly at the time.

However, he regretted fooling his the detective and assassin, they were the only two he found solace in- a reason, a promise to not kill and make it out together after the first lie of a promise turned out to be a sickening fluke. Their faces had been pale, they felt betrayed with the detective trembling, the assassin clenching her fists and looking away in disbelief. The tell-tale tears threatening to fall.

To then perish before his very eyes with the others in a heap of lava,  _melting._ Their screams the only source of noise in the ring, everything turning to wax, sludge, human remains of melted skin, blood, bones, guts of what once had been people he shared a good duration of his time with.

They had all been slaves, bending to Shirogane's every whim to appease the audiences that demanded to keep them captive, for the killing game to manifest, transpire into the real nightmare of it all- other participants would've gladly killed to be featured in Danganronpa but if anything, it made Momota's insides churn with unease, almost choking on the cigarette as he brought it to his lips to take another heavy drag to ease his nerves.

As the smoke poured from his chapped lips in waves, they spun round him like ribbons and fading all the same. His eyes were downcast on the ground below him, he'd gladly jump if he ever so wanted to, but he made a promise...a promise to the girl he admired most- he wanted to be like her, to keep everyone together and make sure no killing ensues. Ever since her gut-wrenching death, he strived to be her vessel- her mouthpiece.

With her garbled words still lingering in his fuzzed mind, he let the smoke billow out of his mouth once more, like the aurora in the night sky, a breathtaking image of reality but it was nothing compared to the beauty of the deceased pianist.

The music died the day her execution arose, an ironic scene of a piano, Monokuma as the conductor, Akamatsu as the fingers landing on the piano keys playing 'Der Flohwalzer' by the Monokubs pulling the strong ropes, swinging her body, left, right, down, up like a video game character. _The abominable version almost akin to nails on a chalkboard with her oxygen supply being cut off by each strong pull- as if she were to be lynched any second but without a bag over her head, her face on display for all eyes to see, not just her classmates but the whole world and none of them knew._

_Till the horrid rhythm would get faster, higher, more oxygen being depleted and cut off from Akamatsu's lungs, she would put up a fight, tugging at the noose round her neck, writhing in pain and agony with the jagged spikes dancing across her back._

_Until Akamatu's struggling becomes more erratic, the only source of noise she hears aside from the burning feeling in her throat and inability to breathe is the dreadful, twisted melody of a piano that her dainty feet step on._

_She lets out silent, strangled screams but nobody can hear her, how can they if her voice-box is restricted entirely? Rambunctious crowds of Monokumas, a sea of robotic bears to spectate, examine and critique the show and there are noises of disgust, booing and hissing as the conductor panics, moving their paws quicker to signal the ropes to move faster, the tempo speeding up to its peak, Akamatsu's body being flung faster, more violent across the grand piano, spikes almost slicing into the skin of her back that was sheathed by thin material of a sweater._

_She really can't breathe, feeling her soul escape her slowly, her very life essence being extracted from her bit by bit like a predator picking its prey apart. At last the conductor finishes with relief, droplets of sweat flying through the air, his head held high with Akamatsu's petite body hanging in the air just above the keys, dangling from the ropes with a swaying momentum that is barely noticeable- her hair masks her face as it droops downwards, hands still by her sides._

_The giant piano lid creaks before jutting forward, collapsing onto the bottom half of the piano, along with Akamatsu's body and Monokid that Monodam had kicked right into the small gap of the piano and breaks immediately, pieces of metal scattering through the stiff air. Monokid's head comes soaring back out followed by splatters of blood, droplets decorating the checkered floor with Monokid's now bloody head rolling against the floor and some steaming fried gears before the other participants. Momota can't believe his eyes when it ends, seeing the pool of blood from the top of the piano sink further, drenching the piano keys and through the cracks to the cogs and strings behind._

That memory would be forever seared into his mind, etched so detailed and evident that he'd never forget- his crush died before him, right in front of him. A bloody massacre. At that time he felt his heart stop, explode into a mess of blood and matted tissue in his ribcage, contaminating his lungs, clogging them as he too, felt himself about to cough up his destroyed heart, he wanted Akamatsu to hold it- it was beating for her anyway but since then, it felt like the line of his life turned dead, a thin line on a heartbeat monitor.

In a slumber that no one can wake him from, the scent of her skin still haunts his lungs- a toast to another endless night, just like this one. A feeling in his bones that he can't explain as if it were a carousel for two that no one knows. Every single time he blinks, she fades right behind his eyelids, he gets the crawling feeling that it's so familiar but he can't do a thing to stop it now. Those once caged memories blinded him momentarily before fizzling away, back to the deepest, darkest corners of his mind. A daily reminder.

A daily reminder to remind him of what they could've been with that deceptive smile of hers and the lies through his teeth. Partners in Crime. _Warm purple eyes mingling with his, with a sweet emotion he couldn't place his finger on, fondness? Gratitude, maybe? Till she left him as nothing more than a mere, broken record to be carried henceforth beyond his limits and emotional capacity- their swan song._

Shame creeps down his spine, like the blade of a knife and it's taking it's time.

_'Will you wait for me? '_

_**'Because now I can't breathe.'** _

The air runs thin.

_'I'm another flourish, I'm another liar.'_

The words of perjury slipped into his mind, curling itself round his consciousness in a loving embrace, crooning sweet nothings.  _Lies. That's what they were- a guilt trip._ And he wasn't falling for it. He forced them to the back of his mind and brushed them off as the least of his worries, he had his self to take care of first- to recover and patch up all the gaping battle wounds he endured like a soldier walking unprepared into a battle of the killing game. It collapsed before him, annihilated- a sick part of him got a kick out of it, relishing in their cries, screams, fears that consumed them fully in the flames of Hell.

That's where they belonged- some of them. Stereotypes of fucked up kids thrown into the prison, looks like murder- bringing out their livid, bloodthirsty sides they didn't know they honed, taming every passing second before they're unleashed in pressured circumstances and sentenced to their pitiful deaths. 

Considering his concealed memories were retrieved to him, he remembers a previous killing game from many seasons ago in Danganronpa's franchise- a participant of the game turning out to be a killer and Monokuma dishes out an execution based on their talent. Momota doesn't remember what their talent was but he can recall the fact that _their limbs were tied to different strings. And had been forced to dance across different spikes while twisting their body beyond its limits before being impaled fully._

Team Danganronpa were copycats of a blood-curdling tragedy that really happened, Hope's peaks' reserve course killing, slaughtering, suiciding, all for the mastermind fashionista, Enoshima Junko herself. All Shirogane wanted to do was recreate that trauma, that pain that divided the world into two- Hope and Despair, making Momota, _Akamatsu, Harukawa, Saihara...all the others_ into thinking they were just fiction and nothing more. Just pawns of a disgusting game with a hefty roll of a dice, wild card and motive to get the tension going.  

He remembers his first encounter with Akamatsu- a bubbly one at that. He stated how he was the Ultimate Astronaut, the Luminary of the Stars and that even crying children had adored him. 

 It was all stupid. He shouldn't of gotten his hopes up when Monokuma had announced the whole ordeal, trade-way of a one-way exit ticket to glory- thriving with charisma and psychotic tendencies, stored away once more. Momota's thoughts go through the gallery of his mind and lands on a particular execution from a long gone season- twins that committed a treacherous murder, their execution being an interesting one of all sorts.

_Both twins attached to chains that hung from a crane like machine with a timer engraved in the center and not far from them, a bland-looking golden key that sat on a pedestal, comfy on a plush red, satin pillow. One of them was excited over the fact they were going to die, the other...not so much. Their face was pale and turning blue, taking the chance to dive for the key, only to be hauled back by her other twin who had a crazed glint in her eye with an insane grin._

_Choked laughter tumbled from the other's lips as they tried to speak, telling their twin to give up. Said twin became enraged with their other counterpart and despite the tears sprouting at their pinkish eyes and trailing down their face, they repeatedly delivered harsh blows to their head with a microphone in an attempt to fend them off._

_The twin then grit their teeth, staggering forwards with each movement, one hand having a grip round the metal collar choking her that was blood-drenched with the other's blood, however, each time they moved forward, the other was being pulled upwards- to be suspended in the air and momentary shock passed their features before their sickening smile twitched across their bloody lips._

_The twin that was getting closer to the key pushed themselves further, beyond breaking point that forced the other into the air, both hands now grasping at the collar with the same iniquitous, sinful smile on their face._

_The exasperated twin swiped the key from where it stood, gleeful that she managed to get her hands on it and smiled happily. She immediately unlocked her collar, only for her head to be yanked off, dying on impact and as their head was moving upwards like a skii-bench linked to a chain._

_The other stared in mild surprise before their expression was one of awe, enamored with what they'd just seen. Hearts in their eyes, seeing their beloved twin die in front of them, their own blood trickling down their face._

_As they sat on their knees on the checkered floor, alarm bells went off and the metal doors that had been open for everyone to see had shut, quickly locking into place, where the twin that didn't succumb to the foolish gimmick was left to suffocate, wheeze, choke. Their legs flailed in the air, kicking almost...giddily? Before they stopped all movement and went limp, like a lifeless doll._

_At that point, only the two silhouettes of a bloody head and a dead body hanging from two long chains that were attached to a type of machinery that somewhat resembled a balancing scale but they were the plates instead._

Momota shuddered instinctively, recoiling at the sinister memory. It was almost hard to believe he had been a fan of Danganronpa,  _almost._ It was the only thing people talked about at the time, if you didn't watch it or know it, you would never be considered or deemed as cool or awesome to hang round with... _or someone to relate to._

He had yearned for popularity- to be known, just something people could acknowledge and he got his way through pain, violence and hurt. Gaining pleasure from inflicting pain and deep wounds that would possibly never heal on others- to him it was addicting like drug overdosing, taking too much till you can't feel but feel like you're floating. He felt guilty for putting his grandparents through all of his explosive behavior, them having to deal with the brunt of the broom on the other end. They deserved better and Momota wished he could somehow make up for what he caused...the mistakes, the suffering,  _the killing._

 He threw the cigarette before him, allowing it to fall into the eternal abyss of darkness, having finished consuming the fumes it emitted, forcing the remains out of his chest and heaved as the remaining smoke escaped his parted lips like a dragon breathing fire.

He missed Akamatsu more than anything, her eyes, her smile, her laughter. He missed threading his fingers through her strands of hair, marveling at how they wrapped neatly round his fingers like ribbon. Her voice was like a bell, a light to guide him through the darkness but...maybe if she had survived, he wouldn't of committed murder and comply to the blackmail that Kokichi proposed to him- in order to kill him to end the killing game, confessing that he was trying to usurp the true ringleader. To demolish the blinding and corruptible game once and for all.

They had assembled an idiotic plan, praying that it would work and in a wicked sense, it did because Momota had graduated and got out alive. When the signals had dropped, showing the true killer he was rushed to an elevator by an army of Monokumas, only having little time to look back at the destruction he'd caused for his friends- he had believed in all of them to discover the truth. That he was the killer, not Kokichi. But alas, they fell for the biggest lie that Kokichi had killed him. His heart was splintering when he saw the hurt in the detective's and assassin's eyes, they didn't want to believe that he had 'died' and swore that they would avenge him with Kokichi's supposed upcoming death.

They were wrong. Momota was forced to evacuate the exisal with an upset frown, tears pooling at his eyes and when the outburst of shocked cries tore through the tense air- he knew he made a grave mistake, he should've given more clues that it was him.

Momota knows he can't go on like this forever, staying in the past- he did make a promise to Akamatsu that if she ever died, he would keep smiling and guide everyone to the light- the outside. But he was unable to do that so the least he could do was carry his life on for his friends, he knows they will hate him if he keeps crying over what he couldn't stop. 

Momota shifted back to reality, his feet barely touching the mossy ground, one leg was almost fully stretched out in front of him over the air, almost tumbling forward to his death, he lurched back with his beating heart.

Maybe...just maybe...if she was still here, they could've fought their own- _no everyone's_ battle together, all standing side by side on the horizon, to face another day.

But Momota does this alone and he thinks it's for the best, seeing the ghosts of his classmates surround him along with Akamatsu. And just as the dazzling sun creeps out from behind a flurry of fluffy clouds, he grins brightly, fully for the first time he was let out from the killing game.

He'll be with them all soon and back into Akamatsu's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Danganronpa or its franchise. All rights go to the respectfully reserved owners.
> 
> Kudos, comments and whatnot are highly valued and appreciated!
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Also, I do apologize if this hasn't been enjoyable, if so, please tell me!


End file.
